Nurse Jess (26 page)

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Authors: Joyce Dingwell

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1959

BOOK: Nurse Jess
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You

re spoiled,

Meg laughed.

Because you

re used to addressing large assemblies in big cities you look askance at addressing fifty people in little Biggabilla.

The Professor said sincerely,

Never, my dear.

As she took her place in the hall Jessa thought a lot about that sincere look. Had it been because the Professor estimated any audience, big or small, sincerely... or had it been because he was looking at Meg?

The nurse-in-charge who had been appointed to Biggabilla was introduced, and the first babies, eight of them, were weighed by the nurse and examined by Professor Gink. Only three of them were white, the other five came from the aboriginal camp. Margaret whispered to Jessa that there were comparatively large numbers of aborigines in this corner of New South Wales.

I only hope Biggabilla

s complement keep on attending the clinic,

she said.

The Professor caught the evening plane back to Sydney. The three young people rode out to the strip to see him off.

Although Margaret had dusted and b
urni
shed him for the ceremony, he looked shaggy already.


What a man,

smiled Meg, and began dusting and brushing again.


Is your opal aboard?

asked Barry.


In this pocket,

assured the Professor.

This pocket from which Margaret is greedily reclaiming Biggabilla dust.

Margaret looked at him with shining eyes. Her last words were so low that they must have been intended only for the Professor—but Jessa caught them as well.


I am so happy,

she said.

The plane

s engine turned over, the craft took off.


He

s waving,

called Barry, waving back. Meg waved, too.

But Jessa did not wave. Perhaps it was because she couldn

t see anything. There was dust in her eyes, Biggabilla was very dusty, and everything seemed a blur. They went back to Billaroo, and spent the next day horse-riding.

Ba went that night, and for the rest of the time Margaret and Jessa rode, chattered and slept. The chatter was mainly baby chatter. Never once did they come down to personal issues. Jessa had the feeling that Margaret was steering clear of the subject, and she had never been more anxious to avoid it herself. But once alone she could not escape her thoughts.

Again she heard Barry announce of his opal,

He bought it

—meaning the Professor, and the Professor saying quietly but with meaning,

I bought it to have it made into a ring.

She remembered Margaret

s eyes as she had dusted the Professor, and how they had shone. She heard again that low,

I am so happy,

of Meg

s.

Happy for what?

Happy because of a milky-white opal with a pin-fire of colours to be made into a ring?

 

CHAPTER XVIII

WHEN Jessa got back to Belinda she was glad to find that she was still on Days. Days, as everyone knew, was more exhausting than Nights, and just now all Jessa wanted was to work so hard that when her duties were over all she wanted to do was to creep into bed.

She was relieved, also, though certainly with shame, that Margaret had not only been transferred to another ward but to different duty hours. An earlier start, as Margaret had been allotted, meant earlier morning break, earlier lunch, earlier tea, a different schedule throughout. It meant therefore that Jessa saw little of her friend, and that was where Jessa

s shame crept in
...
she simply did not want to see Meg, not just now.

She knew she would get over all this. She knew she would have to. The Professor had made his choice, and it was the choice she, too, had wanted for him, not guessing that if it ever eventuated her heart would be torn apart like this.

Dear, dear Professor
...
Every time she came down the long corridor she looked for his lanky shadow on the wall, recalled the first time she had pushed him over and damaged his spectacles, remembered every awkward, clumsy, growing lovable thing about him.

She tried to find balm in little Barry, growing fatter and rosier day by day, and in truth she was never happier than when she was allowed to wheel the foundling out, play with him on the lawn, dress him in some little-boy clothes she had bought from an exclusive baby salon.

Then Sister Helen broke the news that Barry would be going shortly.


Is he being adopted?


No, dear

—Sister Helen was perceptive, she had guessed Jessa

s love for the little man—

but he

s long past prematurity now, so it

s not our place to keep him.


Will the Child Welfare step in?


Yes, Nurse Jess.

Sister Helen paused.

It

s only reasonable, you know,

she said gently.

This small fellow doesn

t need our care any more, but some other small fellow might.

Jessa could follow that logic, but it didn

t help her.

Oh, Perfesser,

she whispered to the little boy, reverting to her first foolish name for him.

I just can

t let you go.

There was nothing to be gained by flying in the face of what must be, however, so Jessa turned resolutely to work so that even the perfectionist Nurse Gwen could find no fault in any task performed by Nurse Jess.

One by one the prems signed out, or at least their nervous parents did, and one by one new littlies arrived.

Deb. Number One departed in a dress fit for a princess. Even her bonnet fitted perfectly, so that Sister Helen was not obliged to dip once more into her bag of knitteds. This was not because Deb

s head was bigger than the other prems

heads, but because Mrs. Peters had an eye for dress and was determined that her daughter follow in her footsteps, even though it would be a long while before she could even crawl. Brains Trust had to be hatted, however. His intelligent
-
looking, rather bewildered parents stood forlornly by as the bonnet Brains Trust

s mother had brought in slipped down to his chin.


He

s very little,

faltered Mr. Willard apprehensively.


He

s quite large,

beamed Jessa.

Rising five and a quarter pounds.


I

m a graduate,

confided Mrs. Willard pathetically.

I know all about Greek mythology, but nothing about babies. I

m scared to death, Nurse.


Nonsense,

laughed Jessa, then, not caring if Nurse Gwen heard,

Babies are tough hombres, and this one is a piece of cake.

Calypso

s parents were easier to deal with. They were young and resilient, and giggled helplessly when the bonnet took the usual nose-dive.


He

s a
person,

raid Jessa severely.

You shouldn

t laugh at him.


He looks like a grub to me,

commented Calypso

s dad.


Yes, he does resemble your side,

nodded Calypso

s young mum.

Two Rh-factors were rushed in; an Italian girlie arrived to be popped at once in an isolet; a son was born prematurely coming through the Sydney Heads to English migrants and was raced by launch thence ambulance to Lady Belinda.


Hi there, Aussie,

Jessa greeted him.

Then one day came the inevitable periodic summons to Matron Martha

s office that Jessa seemed somehow always to achieve.

What have I done...
?
What have I left undone? she wondered, running down the stairs.

But, just as when she and Margaret had been sent for to be allotted the Ball decorations, this also was not a

chid.


Nurse Jess, I suppose you know there is to be an infant convention on the island where your home is situate.


Yes, Matron Martha.


A foolish and unnecessary expense to my way of thinking. A disciplined mind should be capable of planning anywhere, it should not need a special location.


No, Matron Martha.


However, that is my opinion, not others

. Tomorrow twenty delegates are travelling to Crescent Island to hold their annual convention. Our Doctors Elizabeth and Mary have been asked, and, of course, the convention could not function without Professor Gink


Yes, Matron Martha.


At these gatherings it is only natural that notes are taken. Because of their medical trend someone with a little medical knowledge is preferable to a stenographer who is simply and understandably just that. As the island is your home we feel we cannot pass you over, but I would like to add a warning at this juncture, that this is
not
a pleasure trip,
not
a journey to see your parents, it is work.


Yes, Matron Martha, but
—”

Matron was looking at her severely. In another moment Jessa knew she would upbraid her as she always did for not accepting her word as a nurse should accept, that is entirely without demur.

But Jessa had to say something—something for the Professor and Margaret.

Even though it hurt she had to try to let Margaret go instead of her.

She blurted it out awkwardly.

I

m sure Nurse Margaret is more efficient than, I, Matron Martha, I

m sure she would be a far better choice.


Since when,

interrupted Matron coldly,

have I consulted you, or any other nurse, or any sister for that matter, as to what I want done? I suppose you had some festivity or other in mind, and this duty I have allotted you will interfere with it. Well, that

s just too bad, Nurse Jess, because I expect you to be ready to leave tomorrow. The plane departs at nine in the morning.


Nine-fifteen,

corrected Jessa unthinking, and said immediately,

Oh, I

m sorry, I

ve done it again.

Matron advised with the merest flicker of a reluctant twinkle,

If I were you, young woman, I would learn not to speak until I first counted ten.

Jessa told Meg what had happened. She hated doing it, but she knew if she didn

t inform Margaret, someone else would.


Going to the island...
?

echoed Margaret hollowly.

If Jessa had had any doubt before as to what those shining eyes had portended up at Biggabilla as Meg had stood and dusted the Professor, she could have no doubt now. It showed unmistakably in her expression, in the ring in her voice.


I

m so sorry, Meggy
—”
she blurted.


That you

re going?


That you

re not going.


Yes,

admitted Margaret wistfully,

I would have liked tha
t
.

But as before there was no flying in the face of what
-
must-be. At eight a.m. Jessa was packed and ready, and joined
Doctor
Elizabeth and Doctor Mary in the vestibule to await the airport bus.

But Professor Gink came before it, in his modern, shiny, imported model that looked so unlike him.

In reply to Doctor Elizabeth

s query as to where he would leave the car, he waved the women aboard, and grinned.


Old customer of mine works at the Rose Bay base. He will keep an eye on the Duchess. Yes, Tom Javes seems to think he

s under some obligation to me because I saved a little human alarm clock for him. Young Pete, he reports quite proudly, wakes them up every morning at four a.m. Frankly, I would not ask for gratitude for
that.

He grinned again.


Who is the Duchess?

asked Doctor Elizabeth, who had got into the front seat with the Professor, leaving Doctor Mary and Jessa to sit behind.


The car, and why not? You women give the babies names, why can

t I name my car? And she is a duchess, isn

t she? She

s so grand I feel like bowing every time I step in.

Jessa thought of the time he had driven her and Barry out to Watson

s Bay in the Duchess, and how she had had to diaper the Perfesser under his estimating gaze.

At nine-fifteen the island seaplane with its cargo of delegates—and Jessa—took off down the harbour.

Apart from a nod when he had come to the hospital to collect them and which Jessa assumed had included her, the Professor had not given her a second glance.

Barry was at the controls, but the co-pilot took over at morning tea, and he came down and sat by Jessa

s side.

She was glad to see him,
particularly
glad because somehow the Professor

s bland unawareness of her had made her feel very small indeed.

And, of course, she was small. Not just physically, though that was bad enough, she had always envied tall girls if only because they looked to much better in that jealously-coveted sister

s cape. But it was not physically she was thinking now, but mentally. A nurse was insignificant in this company of doctors, specialists and professors, particularly a very average nurse like Nurse Jess. Now if Margaret had been chosen instead

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